


Need Versus Want

by traptrixnepenthes



Category: Future Card Buddyfight
Genre: Implied Torture, M/M, Manipulation, One Sided Attraction, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 02:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7489872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traptrixnepenthes/pseuds/traptrixnepenthes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tasuku had refused to join Disaster at first, but Kyoya's very, very good at getting what he wants from people.</p>
<p>(this fic got written because everything the buddyfight writers do is unsatisfactory)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need Versus Want

It was more interesting when they fought back, Kyoya had decided.

He’d already discarded his loose, white sweater, and it lay in a shapeless lump on the floor just outside the reach of the carnage. It just wouldn’t do to have the clean garment stained. He sat on the side of the bed, a pitiful thing that was little more than pipe and a blanket masquerading as a mattress, looking down with amusement at the struggling boy he had chained to it. The boy’s face was a mess, battered and bruised with a thin trickle of blood coming from his nose, and even with how hurt he was, even with how he couldn’t move much at all, those pretty red eyes were still defiant. Had Kyoya told him yet how pretty they were?

He cupped the cheek with the nastier looking bruise, and his captive winced. “Your eyes are lovely, did you know that? I know how hard work is for you. I have the feeling you don’t get enough compliments, my dear, dear Tasuku.” Kyoya hovered over him, and the cyan-haired cop beneath him didn’t respond in the slightest, beyond intensifying his glare. “Don’t be like that! You know I love you; it’s why I tell you all the things no one else bothered to say to you.” He stroked a thumb over Tasuku’s red and swelling cheek, pressing down and making him jerk away, not that he could go far. “I’d love to be able to look into those beautiful eyes all the time, you know.”

Tasuku said nothing in reply, and instead screwed his eyes shut. Kyoya’s gentle caress turned into a sharp slap, snapping his captive’s head to the side. He made a soft, soft noise of pain, little more than a breath—had four years of being a cop made him not show how he hurt anymore?—and Kyoya dragged a finger over his lips.

“There’s no need to be defiant. We both know I have all the time in the world for this.” Slowly, Tasuku brought his head back to its resting position, and Kyoya’s ever-present smile widened, not that his captive could see. “See? That’s not so hard, is it? Good boy, Tasuku.” Kyoya ran his fingers through Tasuku’s hair, and wrenching the boy’s head back into place when he tried to move away from it

“Bite me,” he spat, still not opening his eyes, but if he had they would have delivered one of the most exquisite glares that Kyoya could have imagined. His voice somehow still managed to be even and clear and powerful, even in this situation. “I’m not going to be your pawn, ever. Just let me go!”

“I’m sorry to tell you you’re wrong, but we all have to do nasty things, now don’t we? No, Tasuku. You will use the Disaster Force, whether you like it or not.” Kyoya brushed the hair out of Tasuku’s face, and this time he did flinch, clearly expecting that gentle touch to turn into something painful again. He’d have to be delicate again. Maybe put his focus somewhere else.

Delicately, Kyoya took Tasuku’s hand in his. It was kind of an awkward position, what with the wrist shackles and all, but he interlaced their fingers. Tasuku was still trying to fight back and squeezed Kyoya’s hand as tightly as he could, sharp nails digging into the back of his hand as he tried to inflict some measure of pain on the person who’d hurt him so much worse, and that was fine. It wasn’t like he could do anything major from here. “I _need_ you, Tasuku.”

Kyoya knew Tasuku’s background. Parents lost four years ago in the disaster, probably feels like they abandoned him on a subconscious level. Became a cop at age nine out of the goodness of his heart because he wanted to help people. Wants justice, but his own brand of it, not the police’s, and that was fueled by all the wild emotions of a thirteen year old who thought he was always right had. Hates what Kyoya’s pawns (not that he knew they were Kyoya’s pawns) did to the system, but never resigned, probably because he needs to feel needed and important. Those four words were enough to get under his tough outer shell and into that messed up, gooey interior, and Kyoya knew it.

Tasuku opened his eyes, staring straight into Kyoya’s, and said (this time, his voice shook just slightly, to Kyoya’s delight), “No, you don’t.”


End file.
